Luminescence
by Storm of Roses
Summary: In a world where she's forgotten, Amaterasu finds a small piece of hope in a young sake brewer and faces a future under threat of darkness' eclipse. May be continued if suggestions are given. A more poetic, less comical, and more intense reenactment of Okami.


AN: Out of a love for Kushi and a feeling that the story could work without Issun's aid, I wanted to make a more serious Okami. That means some violence and blood, along with some minor bending of things to get them into place. Amaterasu is characterized a little differently here; instead of my usual silly wolf, this is a more serious incarnation of her. Kushi always seemed to me the most aware of Amaterasu's power of anyone in Kamiki Village, and so she gets some time to shine. She seemed to believe in the gods more than most in the game. Assuming we've all seen the beginning of the game here, some things are breezed through for a more interesting reading. This may or may not be continued, so opinions are much appreciated. If you like it, I would love to hear what scenes you'd like to see! Enjoy!

Amaterasu, reawakened sun goddess, could smell the malevolence in the air from the moment Sakuya had returned her reflector and turned her stone fur to living strands of sunlight, let her paws caress the grass again. Of course, that grass was dead, but she was back. She could fix it. Probably. What she really wanted was a nap, a real one, and not that awful statue half-life. There was no time for that, she decided. She shook her head and looked up to Sakuya, her ears twitching at the sprite's pleasant voice.

"Amaterasu, mother to us all," she pleaded, her voice like wind in the branches of every cherry tree on Nippon. "A great darkness is stirring. Walk lightly and restore life to all who feel its shadow." Her body faded out slowly, leaving only the dying scent of petals and a blessing. "May cherry blossoms protect you always."

The sun goddess had never been one to waste time, unless it was for sleeping or eating, for she certainly enjoyed that. Turning on the crunchy gray grass, she padded lightly down the hill from Konohana. At her touch, withered flowers slowly pulled up from their tangles to cling at her, begging for the life she exuded. The wolf could do nothing but push her nose to them as a mother would do to her pup; the dry petals scratched at her muzzle.

Amaterasu whined a quick 'I'm sorry' sort of sound, giving a wolfish sigh as she continued on, parting with her flowers. The darkness was bothersome to a goddess of the sun and light. There was no sun, but no moon either, and the result was a blankness to the sky that was changed only by black swirls of wind. The soft trotting of her paws echoed loudly as she continued down the trail, but she did not cower or bother to move more slowly. She may have been weakened, but she was a goddess. No demon would dare jump at her.

But when she entered Kamiki Village, a place she had once known well while she was Shiranui, her paws slowed and her jaws gaped instinctively. What had befallen the beautiful town of her vague memories? Where cherry trees had smudged verdant grass with soft pink puddles, there was only gray. The water was gray. The houses were gray. And scariest of all, the people were gray. They did not move. Did not breathe.

Amaterasu approached the nearest statue-like person, sniffing his hand for signs of life. There was nothing but the earthy taste of stone and dark curses that made the fur along her spine stand on edge. There was nothing natural about that. Slowly, she backed off, and continued on through the main road. Disrepair reined wherever she dared to look. The sake brewer's water wheel was broken and the rice paddy dry and empty. A laundry pole was snapped in half by the river's edge, one half floating in the inky water that lay like a layer of ice, not moving in the slightest. The waterfall was dead, a mere trickle of blackness down the rocks. By all her experience, that was a curse. A rather horrible one, in fact, for she had never seen its like.

A sound behind her. A raucous set of laughs, and the patter of feet, following a loud and high set of flute notes as they played. Almost casually, the goddess turned, catching sight of the little demons immediately. Green imps, dancing and singing to their own music, were taunting her.

"Welcome back, failed goddess!" they wailed, screeching with laughter. "Come back for more?"

Amaterasu didn't waste any time. Leap before you think. And she leapt, fur bristling and sunlight jumping in her wake, fire blazing off of her newly-returned reflector. Instantly, the shield-like weapon sliced through one of the creatures, spilling ink from its body in dark splotches of solid blackness over the gray ground. As the wolf snarled at the two remaining demons, she took note of the change; she rather enjoyed the stain. It broke up the pale monotony. The two others had backed off a few steps, but they held their flutes ready to play. The goddess knew well the power those instruments had; in her full state, she wouldn't have even felt their strikes, but the sharp ends were likely to hurt her now. She paced just outside of their range, slinking around them slowly, keeping watchful golden eyes on their masked faces and growling, constantly snarling and showing brilliant white fangs.

One imp made the mistake of charging her, its steps jaunty and staggered as a drunken dancer, and her jaws clamped around its neck before it could fully move to strike at her. But something did hit her, a sharp edge piercing her side, making her howl through her teeth and drop the dying imp. She staggered away, spattering brilliant crimson from the fur along her flank. She hadn't expected it to hurt so much! She had expected a pinch, perhaps, but the agony of injury had only really been apparent when she was Shiranui, and dying. She had no experience with pain, she realized. Lashing her tail and whipping ink from its cloudy tip, Amaterasu jumped once more, ripping the last imp's arm away, taking its flute with her, and tossed the limb from her jaws as it dissolved into nothing. And then came the focus. The Celestial Canvas covered the world around her, and serenity overtook everything.

Just as when she had painted the world into existence, she saw everything. Every blade of dead grass, every hair on the imp, and the stirrings in the air from her prior leap. And gently, elegantly, as a painter returning to her studio for the first time in years, she imagined a line and painted with just her eyes, brushing a line of fiery ink over the creature. She let the Canvas disappear, and the effect was instantaneous. The demon screamed and was slashed by invisible claws, sliced in twine by her painting alone. She still had that much power, at least. She was rather proud of her handiwork, lifting her head high and howling triumphantly. What a way to return to Nippon.

The wolf growled good-naturedly, sweeping her tail in an arch like a pendulum. Now that the demons were gone, the curse would be weakened, she figured. Looking at the sky, she focused, and time paused. The Canvas rose. And she simply imagined the sun, a circle of blazing ink in the sky, and it appeared. The grayness began to leach away, draining like water from a bowl, and striking blue remained as it peeled back. Divine Intervention, as it was called, did the rest. As the pale rays of the sun fell, the grass lifted its weary blades and breathed again, drinking in the light and regaining the color of emeralds; the flowers straightened and felt the soft caress of the breeze once more, little vibrant spots of brilliance in the sea of green. The waterfall beyond the sake brewery burst forth in a spray of aquamarine, roaring down and crashing into the inky cursed river. Where the pure water touched, the grayness died away and disappeared, sinking to the bottom and becoming one with the soft silt beneath, harmless once more.

Sounds. Those came back too, under the rush and flow of the waterfall. Sounds of people, the soft _swoosh _of kimono silk and weary moans of those waking up from a long sleep. Amaterasu turned on her paws to greet the nearest one, a slender young woman with gentle, sweet features. How familiar she seemed… Perhaps they had met before.

The wolf approached with a soft bark and a comfortable saunter to her step, fearlessly striding up to the woman, for it was normal in the times of Shiranui for the wild creatures to greet their human counterparts. The girl recoiled at first, giving a quick, startled yelp, but then looked at the goddess more carefully, noting the peaceful, relaxed position of her ears and wolfish grin. She did not run. Did not call for help.

Amaterasu bowed her head in greeting, her tail sweeping across the restored grass with a sound like the wind. But part of her was confused; why was this woman not reacting like most humans? When she had been Shiranui, she had been an evil omen, but she was a guardian here. Did no one recognize her? Were the gods so forgotten?

"You're not a demon," the woman said, in a voice soft and delicate enough that it reminded the wolf of her children, the Celestials, the unsoiled beings of the heavens. How she missed them, and what comfort that gentle voice brought her. "Hello, wolf." She reached out a hand, and carefully stroked the fur of the goddess just behind the ears, which said goddess found to be rather pleasant. "I'm Kushi. I haven't seen you before."

The wolf comfortably leaned into her hand, not realizing at first when the young woman traced a circle over the white fur, right where her crimson Divine Markings rested. "What are these from?" she asked, though she didn't really expect an answer, apparently. "You're pure white except for these. And that thing on your back…"

The goddess jumped back a bit at that, looking at the woman with eyes too intelligent for a mere beast, and the girl backed off a step. Carefully, the wolf matched her gaze, golden to green, and time almost seemed to stop. Somehow, those beautiful amber eyes were familiar, but neither could be sure where they knew the other from, and so came the odd sensation of meeting for the first time again.

"You're not a normal wolf, are you?" Kushi asked. "You're more than that. Like…" And her words faltered, and failed her, leaving her looking helplessly at the wolf that sat before her with the eyes of a wise mother. "Like stories. Like old legends."

Amaterasu smiled the only way she could, panting softly in a calm display of her teeth, wagging her tail once. Kushi continued, "This was your doing, wasn't it? No one else seems to have noticed the time we lost…" The wolf tilted her head, and the woman took that as permission to keep talking. "They don't remember, or they would be more upset. They're acting like nothing ever happened. But I remember. It was cold, and dark, and the sun was blotted out. But it's back, and now you're here. That's no coincidence."

Amaterasu curled up in a snowy ball of fur, tucking her nose under her tail. Maybe while she was listening, she could get a moment's rest. But no, the woman sat down beside her, not touching her anymore in seeming reverence. "You're one of them, aren't you? A kami. _Okami_."

The wolf looked up and licked her face, wagging her tail. Finally, someone knew her. What a welcome surprise. Kushi reeled in shock, looking at the wolf again, really looking, taking in the flaming mirror and red markings with new clarity. "It was blurred before," she whispered. "But now I can see you. You're Amaterasu. Great goddess and Mother to us All…" She bowed her head respectfully, closing her eyes. "You saved us. Thank you." She stood up suddenly, giving a surprised little exclamation and hurrying into her mill, while Amaterasu looked on. She came back only a minute later with a fine wooden bowl and a jug of sake, setting both before the wolf before pouring the brew for her. "An offering," she said solemnly. "For everyone here. I don't know if they will recognize you so easily. Their faith in the gods is shaken."

Amaterasu happily lapped at the drink, her forelegs on either side of the bowl, not listening so much anymore. With the warmth of the sun on her white fur and the warmth of the sake in her throat, she was content to sit there forever, maybe fall asleep. But work needed to be done, she supposed. Kushi was investigating her broken waterwheel, sighing in frustration, running her fingertips over the jagged, splintery edges of split boards.

"I'll have to have Susano fix it," she lamented. "And we can't get wood in very cheaply. I can't do anything without my waterwheel."

Glancing up from her bowl, Amaterasu examined the broken wood, tilting her head and letting the Canvas shift to cover her vision. Carefully, slowly, she imagined the details filled in, the circle of the wheel interspersed with the paddle-like extensions, dipping down into the lively river. And when she let the Canvas go, so it stayed, the wheel's missing parts replaced in the same sun-dulled oak. She hadn't been expecting the drain, though, and when the ink became solid wood, she slumped onto the ground with a whine, feeling as though the internal sun fire that kept her alive had dulled somewhat. She rested her muzzle on her paws, sighing. Her power was not what it had been. But Kushi was happy, judging by her awestruck look and joyous laughter when she turned back to the wolf.

"Amaterasu? You did that?" she asked, her hands clasped in front of her heart. "Thank you!"

The wolf thumped her tail against the grass lightly in reply, dipping her muzzle to the newly-refilled rice paddy and licking up a few sips of the sun-warmed water. She flicked her ears in the direction of approaching footsteps, but didn't look up, choosing to close her eyes and listen.

"A wolf?" a child's voice asked, followed by the high-pitched bark of a dog. Amaterasu rumbled a half-conscious greeting, and the dog quieted down. "Where'd you find it, Kushi?"

"She came by to visit us," the woman replied, and Amaterasu could hear her getting the paddy back in order, perhaps getting ready to plant a new crop. The soft splashing of water was comforting. "Down from the mountains, I think. Her company is nice, though."

"I've never seen a wolf," the boy said, and he stepped cautiously over her tail, holding out a nervous hand to her nose. The wolf opened her eyes, reached up, and licked the boy's cheek; he gave a delighted shriek of surprise. His dog sat at his heels and regarded the lupine goddess carefully, his ears perked forward in interest, though if he could speak, he refused to do so with her.

And their conversation carried on in amiable quiet, chatterings of warm weather and the antics of the dog, Hayabusa, as he was called. And slowly, surely, Amaterasu drifted off in the comfortable daze, snoring softly as Kushi left her to sleep, even as the moon cut a path over the horizon, shrouded in stars, and the familiar constellations shined a little brighter as if in hope.


End file.
